Feathers
#3 of Hypnosis stories
A short experiment I've been thinking about for a while now. Hope you'll enjoy it, too.
The air around was weird.
Kind of heavy... no, heavy wasn't quite the word. It was almost like walking underwater, as if there was something thick, dense, warm around him. And inside his head, too. Dripping with every step, falling down his body slowly and pushing him to the ground. Making everything around hazy and slowed down.
But at the same time, it was nothing like being underwater, because there wasn't any liquid. There was no physicality, so to speak, more like the feeling of walking in a dream, trying to stand up and doing so but not because he wanted to. It was as if that dream was controlling his body, as if someone else was dreaming for him, or dreaming a dream of him in which he wasn't him, but the dream of himself. And everything was fuzzy, but also warm and comfortable and confusing but...
There was a room and there was a bed, and suddenly he was lying on it, but soon afterwards he was in a fancy restaurant and he couldn't focus. There might have been someone else... someone whose words were really important, but then again he couldn't really focus on them, but then again, they were all he was focusing on... Which of those was true anymore, he couldn't tell. And he really didn't care.
Feathers.
That was it. It was exactly like walking among feathers. The space around him, every single centimeter, soft and tingling and warm and so, so very light. Trapped inside a pillow, not really wanting to escape but pushing his way through anyway, because he _had_to do it, but then again, why? Why was he there in the restaurant, in the room, in the bar, in the park, walking down the street, lying on bed, when all he wanted to do was stop moving?
Those feathers felt good but he only felt them when he moved. That must have been it. But, of course, he wasn't _really_moving. All that he could see were those separate moments: in the room, in the bar, in the park, in the... like pictures. Separate pictures that didn't really make sense together. Like a dream, trapped inside a pillow, underwater, and he didn't really understood how or why or when or where.
Or who.
The words kept sounding in his ears, but he couldn't really put a sense into them. Should he? Trying to do so pushed the feathers around his whole body. It felt good, but also tiring. So very tiring that all he wanted was to just...
"Well?" the voice said, then, taking the feathers away.
Lucien blinked a few times, as if he hadn't really been listening. The fox tried his best to push that weird feeling away, but it wasn't easy. He took a look around in order to know where he was, as if that could bring any clues to his exhausted mind.
They were both sitting in a cozy terrace, belonging to what looked like a very expensive cafeteria on top of a steep cliff. The roaring waves could easily be heard hitting the rocks below, and just a few steps away, Lucien could see some of the most beautiful sights he had ever come across. The endless sea, blue like the night sky, spreading endlessly. The sun was setting, so the view was simply breathtaking.
But he didn't remember getting to that place. In fact, no memories came back to his mind. And there were two empty glasses on the table, neither of which he remembered drinking from.
"...uh?" he asked, puzzled, as he turned to the lion by his side.
At least, he thought he remembered him... or maybe not. Something in him was familiar and maybe he had known his name someday.
But not now.
"We were talking about silly assumptions people make when it comes to hypnosis," the lion explained, giving him a kind smile. Maybe even a bit patronizing. "Especially about memories. People thinking you won't remember being in trance, and that stuff."
"...oh," was all Lucien could say.
"What do you think about that?" the lion asked, with such false curiosity than in any other circumstances Lucien might have gotten angry at him.
But he didn't. It just took him a few seconds to put some order in his thoughts.
"Well," he said, his voice shivering a bit. "I... I guess that can't really happen, right? I m-mean... you can always remember if you try very hard, don't you? They say all memories leave a trace."
The lion nodded slowly.
"And that's right. But traces can be lost. Footprints, erased from the ground. The memory might still be there, but without any way to find it back. Don't you agree?"
"Y-yeah... I guess it makes sense," Lucien conceded, still a bit confused.
For some reason, he had the feeling he should be the one asking the questions, but there was something inside him that wanted to resist asking the lion the right questions. Almost like pride. He had the weirdest feeling that, if he proved to the feline his theory was correct and he couldn't remember a thing at all, he would lose... something.
And the fact that he couldn't remember what that possibly was made him even more uneasy.
"So, let me tell you, a powerful enough hypnotist would be able to erase all memories from his subject's mind," the lion continued. "It would just take the right words at the right time and place, and there would be no traces left for the subject to find his memories. It really is simpler than it sounds like."
"I... I guess," the fox agreed, moving a bit on his chair as he tried to distract himself by looking at the sea beyond the cliff. The sights were definitely wonderful, but for some reason they didn't calm him down.
"So simple, in fact, that it gets boring," the lion said, with a grin. "Making subjects forget they've been into trance is... so common. Every single hypnotist has done that now and then. And lately, I've been thinking of a better... let's say, exercise, to entertain myself when it comes to my subjects. Do you want to know?"
A cold breeze caressed Lucien's fur and he shivered a bit. He wasn't completely sure if he wanted to know the answer, but after a few seconds he nodded, hesitantly.
"You see, of course it's difficult," the lion said. He then made a gesture to a waiter that had been walking towards them in order to pick up their glasses, urging him to stop. "If regular trance amnesia is already something not all subjects can achieve, the opposite is precisely much more complicated. But, fortunately, I got a subject so suggestible that it was never a problem."
Lucien took a deep breath, starting to think he knew who that subject was.
"And the thing is, your memories from being in trance remain. The memories of being under my control, completely zonked out, as I guided you around. Those, I allow you to keep in your mind," A wide grin spread in the lion's face. "But not the memories from being awake. Those are simply gone now. Whenever I take you back into trance, your mind automatically deletes them, resulting in you never remembering being awake. And that's why you're being aware of this little conversation now, but you'll forget it soon enough."
"But... but that's not..." Lucien began, starting to feel a bit nervous and looking around one more time.
"...possible? Well. Then answer me, my perfectly suggestible subject," the lion turned to look at the fox directly in the eye and he shivered a bit. "Why is this the fourth time I've already explained this to you, only in this month?"
Lucien tried to find something to say. Any words, whatever, that helped him prove the lion wrong. He desperately fought against the blank space in his mind, looking for a memory, but it was all gone. If he tried to think of being awake before that very minute, all he could find was the weird feeling that had kept him underwater, the heavy mind that had accompanied him for so long...
The lion's grin became wider.
"I've had enough fun. Now, it's time for you to fall in the feathers again, pet."
Lucien opened his mouth to say something, but...
...no, heavy wasn't quite the word.
No, it was something different, but he'd never be able to put his finger on it, because it didn't resemble anything he'd felt before and at the same time it was the only thing he had ever felt. Like the waves of the ocean, pushing him back and forth, pulling him deep into the sea and then making him float again. Or like soaring through the sky, completely limp, and loose, and light, like... feathers.
Yes, feathers. That was exactly what it felt like. Warm, soft and light feathers all around and inside him, keeping him comfortable and heavy, making it impossible to move or think. Everything was feathers, and everything would be feathers, forever. And that felt just good.
And as those unknown, unheard, but extremely important words echoes in Lucien's mind, he embraced the feathers and let go of anything else.
When they finally gestured him to get closer, the waiter came and picked up the glasses, not without taking a curious look at the couple that had ordered the table with the best sights in all the cafeteria. It wasn't particularly cheap, and the people who could afford that could be counted with the fingers of one paw.
However, the burly lion seemed to be looking proudly at his companion rather than at the sea in front of him. If he'd had to describe the expression in the feline's face, he would have probably said it looked as if the lion was terribly satisfied with himself, as if he had won something important. The smaller fox, however, seemed to be focused on the sea... too focused, to be honest. He seemed to be... smiling?
The lion caught his glance and turned to him, and the waiter immediately felt a bit intimidated. He turned his back to the strange couple and, shrugging, he tried to mind his business. He didn't have to wait for long, though.
Shortly after and before the sun had set, lion and fox were gone.